By the time my brothers came back down from their shower, I was carefully taking the pigs-in-a-blanket out of the oven.
I scowled as I got blasted with heat.
As I carefully reached into it, craning my face away as best as I can and stretching my gloved covered hands into the piping hot oven, the blistering warmth slowly began to seep out. It was slowly becoming unbearable as I finally managed to grasp the pan.
“It’s hot.” I groaned to myself. Heaving the pan from the oven, I turned to face my brothers. “Could one of you two-”
“We got it.”
Joaquin easily took the hot pan from my grasp and Antonio closed the oven door. I slipped the mittens off, a little jealous how my brothers didn’t mind the sweltering heat. They were resistant to things like that. Though they weren’t as immune as our dad was, they could handle heat a lot better than I could.
I shuffled towards the table, a pout glued to my lips. Climbing onto my chair, settling onto the wooden seat, I watched as Joaqn reached out to grab a handful of pigs-in-a-blanket to put onto his plate.
“Be careful,” I grumbled, “It's hot.”
“You just took them out the oven.” Joaquin snorted, “Of course they’ll be hot. Why don’t you blow on them.”
“Or….” Antonio began with a drawl, “You could suffer through the pain.”
“Well that's mean.”
As Antonio popped a steaming blanket into his mouth, a thoughtful expression fell upon his face as he chewed. He beamed at the taste, plucking a few from the hot pan and placing them on his plate. Antonio continued, his plate of pigs-in-a-blanket beginning to pile high. “I can be mean when I want to be.”
“Mhm,” I nod.
“Sure you can.” Joaquin snorted sarcastically.
After waiting a few more moments, I finally decided that the blankets were cool enough for me to enjoy. I plucked a few from the pile, placing most on my plate as I kept one in my hand to eat.
It was long before our fathers decided to join us at the table. As dad placed a pitcher of sweet lemonade and a wad of napkins before us, Papa placed a plate of chocolate chip and macadamia nut cookies onto the table.
I eagerly snatched a rather chunky chocolate chip cookie.
“Boys,” Papa cleared his throat, “Be mindful with your arguing. We have a guest.”
As I happily munched on my lunch, Antonio and Joaquin turned their attention towards our fathers. While Antonio continued eating, they both regarded the couple oddly, obviously confused by the statement our papa made.
“Guest?” Joaquin questioned.
Papa nods, “The prince.”
Antonio and Joaquin continued to stare.
“He’s here?” Joaquin questioned again.
“He’s up in the room.” Dad said, “I’ve brought him here early today.”
Antonio had paused mid bite, gaze flickering back and forth between our fathers. He waved the blanket towards dad, “Why didn’t anybody say anything? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I,” Papa dramatically began, “just found out myself.”
“Dad!” Antonio exclaimed, “For shame! There's supposed to be no secrets in this family!”
“Calm down Antonio. Just let me explain-”
Joaquin interrupted dad. “Is he going to come downstairs now or-”
“Do we have to share our food?” Antonio whined.
As Joaquin, dad, and I rolled our eyes at Antonio, because of course he would say something like that, Papa fixed Antonio with a disapproving glare. “And here I thought I raised you with manners.” Papa scolded.
Dad ignored Antonio for a moment, turning his attention towards Joaquin. “I doubt he’s coming downstairs now. I think he wants to be left alone.” Dad began, “And yes Antonio,” He glanced at his other son, “you would have to share your food if he wanted some. He’s a guest in our home.”
“I was just asking.”
Everyone rolled their eyes.
I grasped my cup of lemonade, eagerly gulping down the sweet drink as Joaquin turned his attention back towards his food. I could tell he didn’t want to entertain Antonio any further than he needed to. Seeing how his grin stretched mischievously, both Joaquin and I could tell he was about to start something.
“So if he were to come downstairs, I would have to share my food?”
“That is what I said.”
“Right, right.” Antonio nods, his grin spreading and eyes twinkling. He ignored dad’s eye roll, more focused on the way Papa narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He continued, “.....so-”
“You look just like your dad but your attitude is a mystery to me.” Papa interrupts. “I do wonder where you get your mouth from.”
“Do you?” Dad asks sarcastically.
Papa nods, “I do.”
As I melted into the sofa, snuggled deep into a cocoon of thick blankets, I groaned miserably. I could feel my stomach pulsed with pain. It ached, throbbing in a type of agony that was slowly bringing me to tears. “Are you okay?” From the voice, I could tell it was Joaquin talking to me. He poked me through my swathe, “You sound horrible.” “Nooo,” I whined, “Tummy hurts.”“I’ll grab your heating pad.”I grumble out a muffled, “Thank you.”As I heard Joaquin shuffling away, I could feel someone else move closer to me. I snuggled closer to the body heat, ignoring the hand that began to pat around my blankets. “Do you want your stomach rubbed or back?” Antonio asks.“Back,” I answered, “Don’t want to move.”It wasn’t long before his hand found my back. He gently began to rub, snickering quietly at my pain as I slowly began to drift off to sleep. The warmth was nice. It helped ease the pain, but it wasn’t enough to dissolve it completely. I would need my heating pad for that.I desper
I eyed the clump of weeds that sat in the blistering heat. Dewbells. Gorgeous clusters of flowers that made At the moment, they were hideous. Clumps of skinny seedlings that struggled to rise in the sweltering sun. They were an odd shade of green and blue, scrawny stems that were covered in unblossomed leaves and tiny colored bulbs. I couldn’t wait for them to fully bloom. This is my first time growing plants by myself. After papa helped me settle on what I should grow, he left me to my own device to learn how to grow them. It took a while for me to actually plant them. My magical ability was nowhere near powerful enough to grow tulips, let alone Dewbells.It took a few months of training with papa to finally muster enough magical prowess. Dewbell seeds grow off of a specific type potion laced water, sunlight, and magic energy. My energy levels were pathetic. Not enough to summon a ball from my palms nor enough to seep into the soil to feed into the hungry seeds. It took
Thick welts of green vines bloomed with colorful flowers and weeds. They coiled amongst each other, tangled in a dangerous mess of pretty petals, poisonous bristles, and gentle lavender. The smell, slight and comforting, wafted from the entwined heap into the air, mingling pleasantly with the smell of my papa’s homemade fertilizer and my dad’s honeycomb. It was soothing. Sitting in the midst of my family garden, surrounded by the lot of pretty poisonous flowers, plump veggies, and thickening honey, it was something I found comforting. Perhaps it was the familiar smells that brought on my favorite memories. Whatever free time I have is usually spent here. I would be curled up at the top of my favorite tree, either with my tablet or my book, enjoying the atmosphere the garden offered. Hunkering down in the treehouse my dad made me, peeking out to watch my favorite plants slowly bloom and grow. Sweet strawberries. Ripening peaches and plums. Tart green apples. Blooming honeysu
I eagerly began to make my way towards our home. The idea of filling my stomach with as many grilled cheeses as I want excited me. Though the sun was shining, a cool breeze recently began to threaten the once warm weather. A warning that winter was approaching. Knowing that winter was coming, the craving for something hot has become a familiar occurrence. It usually happens when winter begins to roll around. Beef and potato riddles stews or spicy chili are my favorites for times like this. But since I'm hungry now, and papa doesn't have the time to make either one, I'll happily settle on a cheesy grilled cheese. I flung the door open, skipping into the kitchen. I tossed my gloves in their usual spot beside the door before making a bee-line towards the living room. I was tired from working in the garden all day and I wanted nothing more than to snuggle into my blanket cocoon and watch cartoons. Diving for the piles of blankets that I left on the couch, I easily manipulated it i
Papa hated it when people disturbed him while he was cooking. It doesn't matter what he was making. He could be boiling water, the second any of my brothers or my dad tries to talk to him, they get his wrath. It wasn't long before Antonio's dramatic tale turned into a squeal of pain. "What have I told you about coming into my kitchen while I'm cooking?!" Papa hollered. I peered around Joaquin, watching as papa dragged Antonio into the living room. With a firm grip on his ear, papa continued his scolding. "You may look like your dad, but you have my brain! How could you do something so stupid?!" "You just said I had your-ow! Papa!" Antonio screeched as papa tugged, "This is abuse!" "I'll show you abuse if you finish that sentence!" He threatened. Papa scowled down at my brother, rolling his eyes at the pout that grew on his lips. "You pout like your dad." "I'll take that as a compliment." "Do that." Papa turned his attention towards me. "Why did my second gremlin come barging
I wiggled out of my cocoon, ready to devour the mountain of sandwiches I’m sure my papa made me. My brothers hurriedly followed after me, stomachs loudly rumbling at the thought of eating their food. As we entered the kitchen, we were met with plates piled high with our desired sandwiches. I made a beeline towards my chair, plopping down and snatching a sandwich from the plate. Slivers of melted cheese and crunchy bacon poked from the sandwich. The bread was still warm, slightly greasy from the amount of butter he used to make it. I gave it a light squeeze, “Thank you, papa!” “Welcome, sweetie.” I sunk my teeth into the grilled cheese. Crispy bacon and hot cheese. It was one of the best things on earth. As my feet wiggled happily, barely chewing what was already in my mouth, I went in for another bite. I couldn’t shovel away like my brothers could. They both mastered the art of inhaling a mass amount of food. It’s a skill I yearned to have. “Slow down, Noémie.” Papa warne
“I smell sandwiches!” “Dad!” I squealed out with my mouth full. “Papa made me grilled cheese!” “I see. It looks delicious sweetheart.” He ruffled my messy curls. As I tried to dodge his rough tousle, dad turned his attention towards papa. “Do you think papa made dad any?” I grumbled, “I don’t know.” Papa snorted at my comment, swatting dad’s hand away from my hair. He planted a kiss on his sweaty cheek, grumbling in disgust at the feeling. “Tony, your face is covered in sweat.” “Don’t act like you don’t like it.” “Not when I’m not the cause of it.” Papa pouted. His pout grew as he gestured towards dad's shiny face. “This is disgusting.” “I’ll go wash my face.” “And I’ll plate your sub.” As dad left to wash his face, papa turned his attention to plating dad’s food. Unlike papa, dad enjoyed his meatball sub without any cheese. He’ll get a craving for one with it every now and then, but usually he enjoys it without it. It wasn’t long before dad came back downstairs. His face wa
I hated sweating. It made my curly hair poofy and I always felt gross afterwards. The yearn to scrub my grew as I laid sprawled out on the floor, huffing and puffing as I attempted to catch my breath. I’m taking a bubble bath as soon as I get home. Maybe I can convince my dads to let me use a bath bomb. I was in the mood to smell like a rose. “Break over!” A loud wave of groans echoed throughout the room. I slowly heaved myself off the cool floor, sauntering over to the cushioned rails. I easily shifted my body as the instructor demanded that we got in position. She glared at us, eyeing our position with a stern gaze. Her gaze would sharpen when she noticed something she didn’t approve of. A foot a few inches away from its proper place. A back not straightened as it should be. It took a few minutes before her gaze softened. She nodded in approval, “Good.” She gracefully sauntered over to the other side of the room, fishing a remote from her pocket. I forced myself to rel